


All Work No Play Makes Rob A Dull Zombie

by casstayinmyass



Series: The Unholy Trifecta Of Satanic Crack (Keep Out Of Reach Of Children) [3]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Rob Zombie (Musician)
Genre: Acid Trips, Alternate Universe - Crack, Attempted Murder, Based On A Revolver Cover Shoot, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Manson, Crack, Heaven Upside Down Era, Humor, I Am So Fucking High On Pain Pills Right Now That My Finger Looks Like A Bagel, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inspired by The Shining, M/M, Manson Can't Catch A Break, Pet Names, Rob Takes No Prisoners, So Utterly Stupid, Temper Tantrums, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Shining References, This Is What You Get When You Act Like A Dumb Slut, Time Travel, happy new year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Manson bothers Rob on stage. Rob goes absolutely ape and becomes an axe murderer.
Relationships: Johnny Depp/Marilyn Manson, Marilyn Manson/Satan, Marilyn Manson/Twiggy Ramirez
Series: The Unholy Trifecta Of Satanic Crack (Keep Out Of Reach Of Children) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520264
Kudos: 10





	All Work No Play Makes Rob A Dull Zombie

**Author's Note:**

> Don't, uh. Don't read this?

Once upon a Tim(Sköld)e, there was to be a great metal show in Oregon. It was gonna be the best, the absolute fucking pinnacle, most brutal metal show ever: and guess who was headlining? Just fucking, take a guess. Look at the tags. Manson. Yeah, him. 

And Rob Zombie! That is also incredibly important to note. 

So there Rob was, singing his little rock and roll diddy on stage. 

"GEIT GIT GIT GIT HAAAAA!" he sang, and dropkicked some poor guy's phone into the stratosphere. 

"Hey, that's my phone," the sad crowd member protested. It had been a present from his dead girlfriend. 

"I will SHIT on all your phones, you instagramming whorebags!" Zombie shouted through a megaphone. John 5 descended into the waves of sonic electronic madness as his riff absolutely pulverized the eardrums of everyone in the audience over the age of 55. (Ginger's mom came all the way from Vegas, John. C'mon.) 

Anyway, unlike mister sad phone guy, Zombo was having a blast, as he does, bouncing and yelling like a spooky mad cowboy, when all of a sudden, Manson started peppering his podium with bullets! Well, Robert was none too jazzed. He paused his show to look toward the side of the stage as Kill Bill sirens went off, but Manfred was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had vanished! Like Dracula! Or the Invisible Man. The Invisible Man...son! HA! 

Just then, out of thin air (the rafters) Manson came dropping down in a blue bathrobe on top of Rob like a ninja. There they lay for a second, unable to move. They're both in their fifties so give them a minute. 

"Fuck sake," Manson muttered, "Broke my leg again. Guess it's time for the moonboot throne again. King Hotwheels has returned, bow to me you filthy poppycocks!" 

Now while Manson was busy yattering about his legs and cocks or whatever, Rombert was charging his Superbeast Power. He was Very Angry that Manson disturbed his show, but since Rob is a fairly reasonable guy, he decided to give his evil twin a chance first.   
"Okay, 'son. Why did you try to kill me?" 

"Why are you calling me son?" Manson muttered, dragging himself into a sitting position. "You're four years older than me, that's biologically impossible." He took out a big fishing rod, and fished out into the audience. He got back a bra, a septum ring, and a half downed can of Budweiser. "Slim pickins in here," he remarked, downed the beer, ate the can, and got out his guitar. This, you see, was a nice segue into his new single, God's Gonna Cut You Down. 

"Oh, this song is so hot right now," Mugatu said in the audience.

But if looks could kill, Manson would be reduced to a sad puddle of flesh in mere seconds by Rob's glare. Thankfully, he put his intelligence to good use, and decided not to play a number. 

Rob continued to glare. "I called you 'son cause it's an abbreviation of your name." 

"Why not just call me Mans? Or at this point, you could call me Mr. Warner and I wouldn't fucking object." 

"Why did you interrupt my motherfuckin' show, man?" Zombé asked, growing another dread. He grows another dreadlock every time he says man, which also counts when he says "manson" because "manson" has "man" in it. It also counts when he says "manatee" as well, but that's largely irrelevant. 

"YOU PLAYED AN EXTRA SONG SO NOW I CAN'T PLAY BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE YOU DICKHOLE! I'LL SING IT INTO THE GAPING FISTHOLE I'LL RIP UP YOUR SPINE! I'll SING IT UP YOUR ASS! I'LL _KICK_ YOUR ASS!" Manson screamed like a girl who had just been dumped before prom, screaming so hard that his larnyx actually dislodged (literally, I'm not making this up, I was there) dislodged and flew across the stage, hitting Rob in the face. Well. That was the last straw. 

Roblom Zombivius flew into a terrible rage, and he summoned an axe with his powers from Hell. Fire burned around him. It was at this moment Manson knew, he fucked up. "Oh shit," John 5 whispered, and backed up and sat on Ginger's drums like a gargoyle. Piggy turned into a bat and flew away. 

With a charge, Rob ran at Manson with the axe, and the taller man went shooting off the stage, running as fast as his impractically high platform boots could take him. The audience waited, and waited. The house lights came on. Refunds were demanded. A riot took place. The stadium began to burn. No refunds were issued, because all the money was burning. 

Manson dashed behind the concert venue, hiding from Rob. It had begun to snow, so he left footprints, but Rob would probably be too busy eating pumpkin seeds to notice his hiding spot. 

"Hehhehhehhehhehheh," Manson giggled that creepy little laugh from Kinderfeld, and took out a small flute, playing the odd tune to really drive the point home. 

Oh no! Robert Yogurt heard the flute! Curses! Manson decided he would sue himself later for writing the flute solo in that song. Sure enough, Rob came skulking around eating pumpkin seeds, but he ate them whole, like he would swallow the seed shell casings too. When he spotted the other shock rocker, he flew into such a fluster that he regurgitated all the seeds, vomiting up a pulpy green pile of what looked like shredded thumbtacks. Finger lickin good. 

Dashing away from the building, Manson eventually approached thick woods, each footstep sinking him deeper into the snowy abyss. 

Ahead, a large hotel loomed. It was seemingly abandoned, so Manson ran for it. 

Zombì was hot on the goth vampire's heels. He dragged his axe behind him like an even more deranged Jack Nicholson, right into the hotel.

In the lobby, Manson found two plates. One had food that said EAT ME, and the other had a glass that said DRINK ME.

"No no," he wagged his head, "I know how that turned out. You can't catch me depression!" He mounted an elephant, riding it up the stairs. After it took six minutes to get up two steps, he decided this was taking too long, and dismounted. Instead, he looked around and found a pogo stick. It was created by John Wayne Gacy. He grabbed that, took some naproxen for his broken leg, and bounced upstairs.

When he got there, he found a hallway full of immaculate oil-painted portraits. The portraits were all of influential people in history. He walked along them, reading the quotes. There were some from George Washington, Rosa Parks, MLK, JFK, and Corey Taylor. Manson inspected the inscription plaque beneath the last one. 

_"Fuck you." -Corey Taylor_

Meanwhile, Rob had found himself in front of the wrong house (there was a trans dimensional portal by the hotel, and Rob had, for better or for worse, tumbled through one). He smacked his axe through a door, and Ozzy startled on the couch, spilling his smoothie in his lap. 

"Sharon! There's someone at the doOr!" 

"No there's not, Ozzy. Sit down!" 

"I am, Iam--"

"Sit down!" 

Manson hid in the bathroom of the Overlook. He looked in the mirror, and screamed when he saw what was written on the door: _eniacoc_. Wait... He looked around, and wrote in the fog of the mirror with his finger: _where?_

"Use the force, Brian," Obi Wan suddenly said, and Manson concentrated hard. At this point, he had been sobbing harder than when he had given birth to Pogo, and his makeup was running down his face. 

"Intercourse, Brian," he repeated, mishearing Obi Wan, and opened up his phone. Well, if they insisted. He scrolled to the "groupies" contact list which he had snatched from tumblr, but before he could hit call on _"Harriet- the one who loves fisting",_ an unseen force knocked the phone from his hands. 

"Kill your family," the ghost whispered, and his grandfather's Vaseline covered dildo popped into existence right in front of his face. Was he supposed to use that as a weapon? 

"My family is Lily White, and she's at home, probably licking herself," Manson said simply, "I don't want to bother her." Just then, the cat wandered in through the window. "Oh hi, Lily. Did you have a good bath?" 

"Become who you're meant to be," the ghost hissed, "A caretaker at this hotel!" 

"Satan, is that you again?" Manson sighed.   
The voice paused.

"Oh. Okay, alright, you got me." 

"We talked about this 24 years ago, when I was just a little slut, bargaining my soul away for some demon dick--" 

"Look, I'm a changed man, Brian. I've done some searching, grown as a whole entity. I want you for more than the sex." 

"Well maybe _I_ just want sex. Huh? Ever thought of that? No, you just think of yourself." 

[Just then, Zombie's axe came busting through the door.](https://i2.wp.com/robzombie.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/20120919-165424.jpg?zoom=2.625&w=760)

WHACK. 

Manson screamed, pulling his big sharp knife mic out of his ass and swiping at Zombie's hands. He pulled his black skinny jeans back up though, because no way he would have a repeat of leaving his show pants at a haunted hotel. 

CRACK. 

"Little Manson, Little Manson," Zombie grinned, "Let me come in. Not by the hair on your chinny chin chins?" Manson frowned, tying a scarf around his neck. "--Then I'll weeeell, and I'll yeeeeah, and I'll blow your house in!!" 

"Please," Manson muttered, "I'm s-sorry, Zombie. I won't kick your ass. I'll just poison your little kale smoothies, a little bit at a time every day until you die." Rob took another chop at the door, and stuck his head through. 

"HEEEEERRE'S ROBBIE!!" he shouted, and Manson stared at him wide eyed. Then he stabbed Rob in the foot (through the door) launched himself out the window, the snow cushioning his fall. 

"Dang man," Rob sighed, and chased him out that way too. Rob limped after him, dragging the axe. Manson ran as fast as he could, but he tripped on his platform boots because they were made out of concrete. Quickly, he replaced them with the red sparkly gogo whore boots he wore in the Dope Show video, but it was too late. 

"No," Manson said, holding his hands up. Rob lifted the axe, grinning magically. Just then, a snowcat came bursting out of the trees! It was the Twiggy! 

Twiggy made little vroom noises as he drove the snowplow. "I'm in me mum's caaar. Broom broom." 

"Jeordie! You always save me," Manson cried, the snot running down his face travelling back up into his nose and coming out his eyes. He blew a snot rocket and it flew across the globe to hit Ozzy in the face. He was very disturbed by this. 

_"Oh, now look what you've done, Ozzy."_

_"Wasn't me!"_

"Love knows no bounds, my creepy little cumslut," Twiggy said, back in Oregon, and turned into Baby Yoda. 

"But I'm dating Depp now," Manson fretted, "I'm Johnny's little cumslut." In a jealous funk, Baby Twiggy hit a button, and it ejected Marilyn so fucking far, he soared into the city, falling into the burning concert venue. He crawled out five minutes later, covered in soot and carnage and gasping for air. Wow, he had singed off a big chunk of his hair, right down the middle, so now he looked like goth Benjamin Franklin. What a shitty day. 

The press all shoved microphones in his face. "Manson! Are you and Rob still on speaking terms?" 

"Manson! Was there a fight?"

"What happened?! Manson! Manson! Manson!" 

Mr. Manson cleared his throat, snorted a line of the burning ash, and stood up."Uh, everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here, now, thank you. How are you?" Just then, he saw a gorilla lurking in the distance, waving the axe. He took off the mask and smiled. It was Rob. "Wow," Manson cried, and ripped the MTV reporter's skin off, putting it on as a disguise. 

"Oh heeey Rob," he said, in disguise, "How does it feel to be a, a, uh... a fucking douchebag?" 

"Feels fine," Rob answered, and pushed past. Manson let out a breath. He hadn't recognized him. He took off the skin, returning it to the upset reporter. But the Zombman was no chump... he noticed there was something not right with that woman. He whipped back around, and saw him.

Manson saw his life flash before his eyes. He flagged down a car. It was Corey Taylor. "I need a ride," Manson started to say. 

"No, screw that," the angry man angered. 

"Please--"

"You don't get to do that. Don't do that." 

"Cor--"

"It is your right to know what our laws are. It is your right to know what our laws are. It is your right to know what our laws are. It is your right..." 

Manson frowned, and backed up as Corey kept ranting and floored it, running a red and flattening a goose in doing so. Corey backed up, got out, and picked up the dead goose, beginning to gnaw on it raw. He looked up to see Manson still staring at him, and pointed to him. 

" **AHHHHHHHH**!" he raged. 

Just then, a helicopter swooped down and saved him. It was his hero, Johnny Depp! 

"Thank you babe," Manson sobbed, "What can I ever do to repay you?" Johnny Depp took off his pilot helmet to help his friend up, but!! Alas!! He was too beautiful today. Manson, floored by the radiance, slipped out of the helicopter and tumbled down, down into the forest. He hit his head and fell into a dream, waking up in a subconscious room filled with moving flowers. 

_"D a d d y!" Someone called out. He turned, and Marilyn gasped. It was him, but twenty years in the past._

_"H e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e y," he said. His young self was high on acid, but it was a good look on him._

_"I like your Mohawk," younger Marilyn said._

_"Yea I know, me too," older Marilyn giggled, spanking his own ass. "You're gonna write a really fucking cool album called Heaven Upside Down," he told his younger self, "And you're gonna get blamed for the Columbine school shooting."_

_"That already happened."_

_"Oh right." He turned, sashaying away, but younger Marilyn wasn't having it._

_"No daddy, where are you going?"_

_"I'm leaving, babyboy," he said, and then he turned around again._

The dream ended, and Marilyn woke back up in the snowy snow. Wow. That was weird.

Just then, Lily came over to him through the trees. She started licking him, and licking him, until she had licked his face clean off his skull. He patted her once she had quelled her bloodlust, telling his sweet angel to go play. She did so contentedly. 

Was this it, then? The end of the road? Was this where it all ended for him? Now he was left for dead, without a face... he looked up to the sky, and saw that the moon had now eclipsed the sun. The angel had spread its wings, the time had come for bitter things. Through the blur of the cold shrinking in on him though, he noticed a figure. It was looming closer.... it was a smiling man. He was in a suit.... 

"Help..." Manson whispered. The man bent down, and smiled happily at him. It was David Letterman. "Don't say it," Manson croaked, flipping onto his back. David Letterman just chuckled heartily, and left him a note. Marilyn looked down at it. 

_"You are a fucking joke. From your pal, Dave."_

"TITS!" Manson shouted, and Twiggy bulldozed over him with the snowcat. 

The End 


End file.
